


Unsteady

by JellybeanSweet



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt Stiles, Injured Stiles, M/M, Mild pain, Spark Stiles, based on a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 04:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18886870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellybeanSweet/pseuds/JellybeanSweet
Summary: “I thought you were dead.”Stiles blinked, completely caught off guard. “What?”“I thought you were going to die!"





	Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Written at varying times late at night. It's not edited, nor beta'd, just written and posted. Feel free to point out any mistakes in my spelling. Love comments and kudos!

“You’re kidding me,” Stiles whined, pressing his body against the cement wall, falling quiet to listen to any other noise. “This really can’t be happening.”

Stiles moved slowly, trying to minimalism the amount of noise he’s making, but the ground is covered in all sorts of grime and dirt, and his feet are bare. He’s already stepped on a piece of glass, and he can’t be sure, but he’s pretty sure his shoulder is dislocated and he doesn’t know how to set it. 

The lights in the sewer happen to be the weakest things Stiles has ever seen, and even then they are scattered around haphazardly.

As much as Stiles wishes someone else was with him, he’s glad he’s alone at this moment. Any of the wolves would have long since been paralyzed or seriously injured by the amount of wolfsbane Stiles could feel was hanging in the air. 

Stiles really hated hunters.

Stiles stumbled a little, feet hitting something hard. He waved his hands around and hit the wall, but immediately pulled back when his hand hit something sharp. Stiles fumbled to regain balance, finally finding his footing and stabilizing his body in one spot.

Stiles tried to activate his spark, but the cuffs around his wrists must have still been blocking them because it was not working. He tried to pry off the cuffs, and they firmly stayed in place.

For a moment, Stiles wondered if it was worth it, going through the tunnel the hunters had probably laced with traps for this specific case. The case being Stiles managing to escape and finding his way out of their facility through the old, dried up sewer system. It was as disgusting as it sounds, but at least there was a little walking ledge along the side.

The Spark ultimately decided it was worth it, but only if he could find a way out of the sewer. 

Stiles paused his movements, listening for any noise to alert him of somebody coming. Nothing. At least, not yet.

Stiles kept moving, breaking into a run despite the glass sharps embedded into his feet. He saw light, something brighter than the weak ones in the sewer, and relief flowed through him when he discovered an actual lightbulb, showing him a ladder to a cover.

Stiles scrambled to the ladder, hands desperately gripping at the metal as he slipped his way up. He used all of his might to push the manhole cover, which easily slide off, and when Stiles looked up he saw trees. 

Stiles practically jumped out of the sewer, covering the manhole once he was out and looking around. Another predicament. He had no idea where the hell he was.

The Preserve was the obvious answer, but where inside of it? The forest was huge. 

Stiles could feel panic starting to rise as it finally hit him that he didn’t know what to do, but he calmed himself down a little as took a deep breath. He needed to sleep, he was exhausted, so he should try to find a tree to climb so he was off of the ground and less vulnerable.

It took a few minutes of wandering, but Stiles finally found a tree with a few branches that were close together and seemed as comfortable as tree branches could get. He heaved himself up the tree, feet flaring hot and shoulder burning as he used them to climb, the glass in his feet just getting pushed in further, but that was not his priority right now. 

Stiles got to a good height, a nice distance above the ground and covered by the leaves a decent amount. He, despite the cool air and the pain in his body, fell asleep quickly. 

——

Stiles woke with a start, feeling mildly rested but still in a lot of pain. He shifted and muffled his own groan. He body was as stiff as a board.

Stiles felt something curling in his stomach, heat building before blooming to the rest of his body. It made him gasp, the cuffs that had been around his wrists loosened and he pulled them off. They must have lost their magical energy, or the caster must have gotten killed to stop the flow of energy to them. 

Stiles tested his spark, just trying to create a little light now that it had become night. A soft light flowed from his fingertip, but when he tried to brighten it a little, he couldn’t. Still weak, but he had something. 

Stiles groaned as he shifted, slamming his hand against his mouth to stifle the noise. His shoulder burned in pain. 

He activated his spark, attempting to heal just the smaller cuts around his body. He tried to call for help through his pack-bond, tried to ask, beg, for help, but he could not feel any answer. Maybe the pack felt it, but Stiles could not.

Stiles froze when he heard the barks of dogs, using all of his power to create and maintain an illusion that there were too many leaves on the tree he was in to see where he was.

The sound of dogs and people got louder. 

“Come out, little Spark!” a commanding voice yelled.

Stiles pushed harder and tried to cover his scent down below so it didn’t lead directly to this tree. He could feel the blood dripping from his nose as he pushed himself.

The dogs were barking loudly, but Stiles closed his eyes and pushed. Blood gushed from both nostrils of his nose and a little from his mouth, but the dogs caught the fake scent and ran off.

“Guess he’s not here,” one of the hunters sighed. “I was looking forward to seeing him again.”

Stiles shuddered, watching them leave. He waited until he couldn’t hear them, and then another addition few minutes before dropped the illusion of both his scent and the leaves. 

He wheezed, blood covering the bottom of his face. He probably looked like he just ripped out somebody’s throat. With his teeth. When he thought about it like that he laughed, but the pain made his body tense and it hurt, so he stopped.

God, Stiles was in pain and he was tired and he wanted to go home! He also wanted to sleep in an actual bed, not on the cold floor where he had been chained for a few days before they thought he was drained enough to unshackle him. 

He wanted to see Derek, too.

Stiles groaned softly, rubbing at his face and trying to wipe away as much blood as he could. He tried to feel through the pack-bone again, grasping for anything, and he found just the smallest handle and he tugged.

Stiles screamed and yelled and cried through the bond, begging for help because, well, he was bleeding and he was scared, and he was so close to the hunters. Stiles tugged again, and when he heard the roar of a wolf in the distance, he knew they had felt it.

Stiles shifted, trying to just will himself to pass out so he wouldn’t have to worry anymore, but there was too much energy now. He figures he may as well go back down the tree.

With a grunt, stiles slipped from his spot and began to descend the tree, immediately regretting his choice as he put pressure on his shoulder and his bare feet, still with shards of glass in them, began to bleed again from the tree. 

Stiles hoped a few feet from the ground and practically screeched when the glass embedded itself even further, falling to his butt. He tried to pull the pieces out, but watching the blood ooze from his own foot made him woozy. His shoulder was on fire.

“Stiles!” 

The Spark’s head whipped around, eyes locking on his boyfriend.

“Derek!” Stiles began to push himself up but Derek pushed him back down.

“Let me get the glass out of your foot. Stay still, okay? It’s going to hurt. Don’t make any noise.” He placed his hand on Stiles ankle and pulled away some pain.

Derek began to extract the pieces of glass from Stiles’ feet, hands shaking minutely, not that Stiles could see that anyways. 

He got to the bigger pieces and pulled away more pain, doing his best to stop the bleeding with what he had on them. It ultimately led to Derek ripping up his own shirt and wrapping it around Stiles’ foot, just for the moment, just to get it to stop. When he finished he kissed Stiles’ hand before looking over the rest of his body.

“Shit. I need to relocate your shoulder. I can’t take away pain while I do it, though, I need to focus.” The wolf looked around before his eyes settled on something. He reached out, grabbing the stick and handing it to Stiles. “Bite down on this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Bite down on it. This is going to hurt, and you can’t scream. If they hear you make any noise, the hunters will come running this way because we’re vulnerable right now.”

Stiles sighed but cleaned the stick off and bit down. Derek helped him lay down.

“I’m better at it against a wall, but I have to do it against the ground. The trees won’t give the right kind of support. I do it for the wolves while they’re standing up, but this won’t be too different.”

Stiles was going to snark back, but instead his shoulder thumped back into place and he screeched. The stick did its job, and muffled the noise.

Stiles spat the stick out and took long breaths, panting heavily. Derek gently grabbed him and pulled him back up, cupping his face, hands still shaking a little. “You’re okay, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded, tucking his face into Derek’s neck and taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes and let the other man take him home.

——

“Hey, Stiles, wake up,” a voice prodded. “Come on, wake up.”

Stiles groaned, eyes blinking awake. He tilted his head to see Derek wrapping up his feet in bandages, and the looked to the voice to see Melissa standing beside him.

“There you are. I’m just checking you all over. Derek did a very nice job setting your shoulder back into place, it’s set. I taught him how to wrap it just in case, but you’ve got to wear the sling for a little while. We cleaned up your feet. The glass didn’t give you an infection, so that’s good. You actually have some rips on your chest, most likely from the bark of the tree you were in. Derek told me. That’s why you don’t have a shirt on, just the blanket. Derek’s gonna bandage those up, only one of them is big, but it’ll heal as long as you don’t pull at it. You don’t have a concussion either, so you’re free to go back to sleep.”

Stiles hummed happily. “Thanks Melissa.” The nurse smiled before giving a little wave. She said her goodbyes to Derek and left the loft.

Stiles soaked in the silence as Derek wrapped up his feet. He liked the loft. Derek and Stiles has redecorated and gotten help from an interior designer with some prodding from Stiles and the rest of the pack. It was much more homey now.

Derek pulled the blanket over Stiles’ feet and moved up to his chest. He pulled the blanket back and began to disinfect the cuts, silent and focused on the task.

Stiles watched him as he went, noticing the way Derek’s hands were shaking as he worked. He pressed down a little on a cut and pulled away before putting on a bandage.

“Don’t be so gentle, Sourwolf, I’m not gonna break,” Stiles teased, but he realized his mistake when a few tears dropped from Derek’s eyes and the wolf sucked in a deep breath.

“I thought you were dead.”

Stiles blinked, completely caught off guard. “What?”

“I thought you were going to die. The panic you were sending through the bond, the pain, the fear, god, I thought you were being killed when I heard one of the hunters start talking about the ways they wanted to cut you up. I didn’t even try to send anything calm back to try and help, I just, I-”

“Der, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“No, it’s not your fault, I’m just…” he sucked in a deep breath. “I just got scared.” A few more tears fell and he let out a soft sob. “When I saw you on the floor, and your face was covered in blood, I thought that they had killed you. I was too panicked to check for a pulse. Too terrified that I had already lost you that I didn’t even bother to check until I was on my knees and feeling your chest move under my hands.”

Stiles had forgotten about the blood that had covered his face. His face must have been so pale. He must have looked dead with how much sleep he had been kept from in the past day or so in the hunters hands.

Derek shifted, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He took a deep breath, wolf-nails digging into his hairline, causing a bit of blood to well up. 

Stiles pulled Derek with his good arm, forcing the wolf to release the hold he had on his own head. He ran his hand through Derek’s hair and rubbed where his nails had been carving.

Stiles gently pulled Derek down a bit further, giving him a chaste kiss to the lips. “I’m still alive and kicking. I’m here. I’m all good, just fine, just a few cuts and bruises, okay?”

Derek nodded. “I know. I know, Stiles.”

“I know you know, Derek. But you’ve got to relax a bit. You’re very tense, but I am okay.” The wolf closed his eyes and took a breath. 

“Look at me, Der. I am okay.”

Derek opened his eyes and melted just a little, cupping Stiles’ face. His shoulders slumped a bit as he let go of the tension in his body.

Stiles smiled, wiping a few tears off of Derek’s cheeks. “I love you. Now, come on, snuggle me, Sourwolf.”

Derek sighed. “I love you, too.” He pulled away for a moment and then grabbed the cloth he had previously been using. “Let me finish cleaning these, and then I’ll give you all the cuddles you want.”

Stiles hummed happily. 

About twenty minutes later, when Derek was finished, he picked up the spark and carried him to bed. They pressed close to one another, Derek curled protectively around Stiles, their hands clasped together.


End file.
